


you don't have to be lonely

by beani



Series: farmers only dot com [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Acxa & Keith (Voltron) are Siblings, Comedy, Crack, Dating, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Disaster Gays, Falling In Love, Family Issues, Farmer Keith (Voltron), FarmersOnly, Flirting, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Insecurity, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Light Angst, M/M, Memes, Online Dating, Phone Sex, Romantic Comedy, Sequel, Stereotypes, Texan Keith (Voltron), Texting, Virginity, but he doesn't actually farm ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-07-23 11:12:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16157843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beani/pseuds/beani
Summary: That boy was probably one of the only people Keith had ever felt a real connection to, in all his years of dating. And he wasn’t just saying that because he was pretty.Or, a telling of the events that take place after part one: city folk just don't get it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey fellas. if you're new here, i recommend reading the first part of this au, city folk just don't get it, before you hit this one up because this branches off of the events that occur in that fic. i guess you could read this as a standalone fic, but it won't make as much sense.
> 
> if you're from city folk just don't get it, hello again! and thanks for sticking around. i decided to change things up a bit and write from keith's perspective. so hopefully you enjoy because i really enjoyed writing this first chapter!

“Where were you last night?” His roommate, who, arguably, should have moved out by now—Dylan, his name was—stated the moment Keith walked through the door. He had been in this exact situation countless times before. Keith could feel Dylan’s eyes studying him, his every move, as he locked the apartment door behind him. He was a paranoid fucker, but Keith supposed that was what smoking pot and cigarettes constantly would do to you.

“I went to see my sister,” he replied calmly, turning around to meet Dylan’s brown eyes. The male of 25 narrowed them in what Keith believed to be suspicion.

“In the middle of the night?”

“Yes.” Keith had no reason to tell Dylan anything about his sister, or why he had driven an hour away to see Acxa at his mother’s house despite the tense relationship he had with his mom. They were all details he didn’t need to share with Dylan, of all people. Maybe one day he’d tell Lance all his family troubles. That boy was probably one of the only people Keith had ever felt a real connection to, in all his years of dating. And he wasn’t just saying that because he was pretty.

Dylan seemed to understand that was all Keith was going to say about that, but his questions continued. “Thought ya had a date, hmm? What, ya ditch your date for your sis?”

“Still had my date.”

“With your sister?”

Keith held back the urge to laugh, knowing that the slightest chuckle would result in having an earful and a half about how Keith never took anything Dylan said seriously. But, who in their right mind could ever take _anything_ Dylan said as _serious_ , especially when he said things like he’d have a month’s rent ready on time and never followed through with his promises? “I saw her after I went on my date,” Keith explained patiently. He had gotten used to dealing with his roommate’s shenanigans. Plus, there was an extremely large chance that Dylan was high at the moment.

Dylan stared at Keith. At his _neck_ , more like. “Uh-huh. You two… y’know?”

“…if we fucked?” Keith finished for him, raising a brow.

“Jesus, Keith, you don’t have to be so vulgar all the damn time.”

Keith rolled his eyes, unsure if Dylan meant that statement as serious or sarcastic, considering Dylan swore more than Keith did on a daily basis. “Even if we did,” he started, making his way passed the couch where Dylan was sprawled out in an unsavory fashion, “it’d be none of your _darn_ business.”

They hadn’t. The furthest he and Lance got was making out in the backseat of Keith’s car. It had gotten a bit steamy, Keith wasn’t going to lie, and Lance had left a few marks on his neck as a result. But, that was as far as he was willing to go. Besides, Lance’s mom had called him and interrupted, worried that he hadn’t returned home yet. Keith was inwardly grateful for her call because God knew just how inexperienced Keith was.

Keith remembered how clearly Lance’s face flushed red when he answered his phone, still sitting partially in his lap. He was cute, no doubt about that, but Keith was worried his… virginity… would be a turn off.

Despite that bit of worry left with him at the end of the night, he and Lance had spent a wonderful time with each other. The museum had closed long before either of them were willing to part ways, so Keith suggested heading down to the beach (it was only about 30 minutes away). And that’s where the making out had taken place, in the back of Keith’s car, with Arctic Monkeys playing softly through his car’s speakers.

“Your sex life is plenty of my business!” Dylan called from the other room, pulling Keith from his recollection of last night, bringing him to the present.

“It really isn’t,” Keith replied, pinching the bridge of his nose, wondering why in the world his past-self thought that living with Dylan would be a good idea. He could have easily found a different roommate. A better one. Thinking of which… “You found a place to stay yet?” Keith peered his head into the room from the opening that led back to the small living room.

Dylan was moving out, mostly because the continuously _late_ rent payments, and Dylan kept smoking indoors even though he had asked him at _least_ every day to step outside on the balcony. He hated how it made everything smelled like smoke, himself included, and it took a long time for that smell to fade. Keith was sick of Dylan’s behavior and was, for lack of a better phrase, kicking him the fuck out because of it.

“I posted an ad on Craigslist,” he said, and Keith could only _imagine_ what _that_ must have looked like. “I’ve gotten a few replies, so yeah, I’ll be outta your loooong, gorgeous locks of hair in like… a week, or something.”

“A week? I’m holdin’ you to that.”

“Whatever, Keith.”

* * *

 

Dylan was out of the apartment doing God knows what, but Keith didn’t care all that much. His roommate tended to randomly disappear during the day, which he found a bit weird, but Keith never questioned it. He was more than happy to spend his day off alone. He was a bit hungry, and if Dylan’s trend of eating everything in the fridge and pantry continued, that meant there was nothing to consume in the apartment at the moment.

Keith couldn’t wait for him to be gone. He still needed to find a replacement. It wasn’t urgent, though, and worst-case-scenario, he could work overtime at the nursery, or do more photoshoots if he needed the cash to pay rent. As Keith grabbed his keys, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

It was a Gmail notification, saying he had an email from none other than Lance, though, Keith wasn’t sure why he was emailing him when they had exchanged numbers some time ago.

He opened it on the elevator ride down to the lobby.

 **Heyy**  
_Hi Keith! First of all I want to say that I really enjoyed last night. You’re a really good kisser._

Keith was very glad that he was the only one in the elevator because he could feel his face getting warm at Lance’s blunt flirting.

 _That was weird to type out but it’s the truth. I can’t wait to see you again. Ok, so you’re probably wondering why the hell I’m emailing you instead of texting you, and that’s because, welp, can’t find my phone. I searched my car, but I couldn’t find it in there even with the Find My iPhone app thing. So, I might have accidentally dropped in in your car when we were at the beach. It’s kinda farfetched but that’s the only other place I think it could be if not just laying on the floor somewhere. Anyway, it’d be super cool if you could check your car for me :)_  
And if it happens to be in there, we can see each other a lot sooner  
Your super hot and sexy date,  
Lancey Lance

Keith managed to type out a response as he entered the basement floor where the parking lot was.

 **Re: Heyy**  
_hey, im checking my car right now. by the way, you’re a lot better than i am._

As Keith checked the passenger side, he felt a buzz again. He didn’t take his phone out until he had fully checked both the front and back seats. Keith didn’t _see_ anything that looked like a phone. Not underneath the seats, or on the floor, at least. So, Keith called Lance’s number to see if it was there and not in an obvious place.

“ _C’mon sweet thing, won’t you climb on out of your window while the world is sleeping—_ ”

Keith was surprised to hear country music coming out from wherever Lance’s phone was hiding. _Keith fucking Urban,_ he thought to himself, recalling of all the times his dad had played this _exact_ song. He couldn’t help but hum along to the tune as he searched for Lance’s phone. It was lodged in the small space between the back of the chair and the seat. Keith wasn’t really sure how it managed to get in there, but when he remembered how Lance had so ferociously attacked his lips and neck, he understood.

The earlier email from Lance read:

 **Re: Re: Heyy**  
_Thank youuu Keith. I owe you one for sure.  
P.S. Give yourself more credit ;)_

Keith replied accordingly.

 **Re: Re: Re: Heyy**  
_i found your phone. keith urban, huh?_

There was almost an instantaneous response.

 **Re: Re: Re: Re: Heyy**  
_YOU WERENT SUPPOSED TO HEAR IT KHGJSIUTHG_  
Ok but for real I googled what ringtone should I give my country boyfriend and that was like one of the first results lmao  
Yayyy you found it!! If it isn’t too much trouble, could you drive over and give it to me? Or I can come to you!

One word stuck out to him. _Boyfriend_. They were only dating, right? Lance had only googled that for convenience’s sake, probably. It was an easier search term. He was overthinking it, and didn’t mention it in his email replying to Lance.

Keith didn’t have anything to do. He was just going to get food, after all. Maybe he could invite Lance out for lunch. Or would that be too much? They had just gone on a date last night, after all. Maybe he could vaguely mention that he was getting food? No, that would be weird.

 **Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Heyy**  
_i can bring it to you. was on my way out anyway_

 **Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Heyy**  
_Really?? You’re so nice Keith, thank you!! You have no idea how much of a favor you’re doing me. TYSM_

Underneath that, he had listed his address, and Keith saved it to Lance’s contact before putting it into the Maps app so he could be on his way.

 **Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Heyy**  
_you’re very welcome. see you soon._

‘Soon’ happened to be twenty-five minutes later. Keith pulled up to Lance’s address, and he got out to approach the front door. He knocked, holding Lance’s phone in his hand. Inwardly, he wondered if Lance had sent him the right address. But then the door swung open, and there stood a middle-aged woman who looked like she very well could be Lance’s mother.

“Hello,” he said (Keith only greeted Lance last night with _howdy_ because he was a nervous mess, and it was how his father spoke). “Does Lance live here, by any chance?”

Her eyes lit up when Keith said that, and Keith could see where Lance got his dimples from. “Yes. You must be Keith.”

_Oh._

“Yes ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m here to return Lance’s phone. He left it in my car.” He was even more aware of the fact that Lance had left multiple, bright red hickeys on his neck last night, and Keith felt like her gaze was pouring into him, studying every inch of his body. Keith didn’t want to make it seem like he was only dating her son for sex, or something. And he wasn’t, because Keith had never even _had_ sex.

Her smile spread across her face, eyes wrinkling at the corners, and she opened the door wider. “You have such great manners! My son should learn from you.” Keith watched as she turned her head and called for Lance. The boy in question emerged from inside the house to the doorway. He looked a bit embarrassed, but just about as pretty as ever. “Take your time,” his mother singsonged as she practically pushed Lance out of the house before he could even say anything and closed the door behind her.

Lance took a moment to recollect himself before speaking. “Hi,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “That, uh, was my mom. Sorry if she said anything… _weird_. She’s just super excited that I went on a date and didn't think she'd be able to meet you so soon.”

“She didn’t say anything out of the ordinary. Just that you needed manners,” Keith commented, and Lance scoffed.

He watched Lance’s mouth move as he formed words, and Keith really wanted to kiss him. But he could wait. “I don’t _need_ manners, I have _plenty_ of them.”

Keith chuckled, finding Lance’s personality to be just as endearing as ever. “Here,” he said, voice a lot quieter than Lance’s, deeper. It could easily be mistaken for calmness, but anyone who knew him on a deep, personal level, could tell that he was actually very attentive to what he was saying, almost afraid of saying the wrong thing. “You forgot this last night.”

Keith held the phone out to Lance, and his eyes trailed down to it. Lance took it from him, their hands barely touching in the exchange, but it left chills running up his arm and down his back. “Thank you, Keith.” Lance’s voice had gotten a bit quieter, and his eyes half-lidded. “You’re probably the only person I know who would go out of their way to bring me my phone.”

Lance’s eyes were looking at his lips, and Keith knew this sign. Lance wanted to kiss him. “You’re wel—”

Keith didn’t have the opportunity to finish his statement before Lance’s lips were pressed against his, eyes closed. Keith slowly let his eyes shut too, and he relaxed. He had been caught off-guard, but maybe that was a good thing. He had a feeling Lance was going to work him out of his comfort zone, slowly but surely.

Maybe that was a good thing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only thing that saved Dylan’s greasy, unshaved face from his wrath was the phone buzzing in his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 22 days later,,,,, jfc
> 
> sorry for the delay fellas. i've been doing a LOT recently in my personal life. but guess what??? i wrote this shit in class on my phone so you can BET there's gonna be some weird typos and autocorrects. YEET-HAW
> 
> ALSO THERE'S A FUCKIN TIME SKIP BECAUSE IT WOULD BE WEIRD IF THIS HAPPENED A WEEK AFTER THEY MET
> 
> what sucks tho is that i wasn't able to get this out in time for keith's b-day. (happy belated b-day keith!! ;) )
> 
> smol warning: there's some sexy stuff in this part... it's not too descriptive, but yeah if you wanna skip it, it starts after the line break and ends at the paragraph that starts with "For a while after that..."
> 
> thank you for your patience!!

Irritated: the word Keith would use to describe how he felt for the past two months. Even the daily phone calls and text messages from Lance wasn’t enough to keep Keith’s temper from rising whenever he saw Dylan in his apartment. The stoner of a roommate was supposed to have moved _long_ ago, but Dylan’s excuse for his extended stay was that his new apartment deal “fell through.”

Today, Dylan was laying on the floor in the kitchen. Keith nudged him with the tip of his shoe to make sure the man was still breathing. Dylan mumbled something and opened his eyes. They were very red, and Keith didn’t have to ask to know why.

“Welcome baaaack,” he drawled, sitting up from his place on the floor.

“What the fuck’re you doin’?” Keith asked, grimacing with disgust. “Get off the floor.”

“It’s cool down here, though, _Keithy_.”

Keith huffed a breath through his nose—something he often found himself doing in the presence of Dylan. “Don’t call me that.”

“Awww, why not, _Keeeiiiiiithyyyyyy_?” Keith ignored the question and instead directed the conversation to something else. That something else being when Dylan was planning on leaving. “Soon, okay? Jesus, that’s _aaaaalllll_ you _eveeerrrr_ talk about. I have _feel_ ings, you know. It’s like you _want_ to get rid of me.”

“I do.”

“ _Ruuuuuude_. Didn’t your mommy ever teach you any manners?” He glared at Dylan, who seemed unphased by it in his current baked state.

Annoyed, Keith opened the fridge. He was surprised to see that Dylan’s munchies hadn’t emptied it of all and any food items. The pantry had probably been raided, though. Another thing to add to his list of things to do—restock on food. “Listen, Dylan. I’m willin’ to help you pack your shit and move it if that’s what it takes to get you out of my apartment. You hear?”

“I’m listenin’, cowboy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“…Why not, _cowboy_?”

 _Because,_ Keith wanted to say. _Only Lance gets to call me that_. “Don’t like it,” he chose to say, pulling a cold bottle of water from the refrigerator and shutting the open door. “Tomorrow. We’re gettin’ you the hell outta here, and you’re gonna stay elsewhere. We _agreed_ on that. You’ve stayed past your welcome.”

“ _Elsewhere_ ,” Dylan said, mimicking Keith’s accent and giggling to himself.

Keith sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose. _Irritated_. “You _hear_ me, Dylan?”

“Yeah, yeah. Tomorrow, I’ll be out of here.” Keith didn’t believe Dylan would even remember this conversation, but regardless, Keith was going to pack everything of Dylan’s—which wasn’t much—with or without his help and force him to leave. Change the locks, too, because Dylan probably made multiple copies of his key.

Arguably, Keith should have never allowed this man to stay with him, but he was the only available roommate, and Keith _needed_ someone to help him pay rent when he had first moved into the apartment. Moving to California via hitchhiking with nothing but the clothes on his body and a few dollars to his name wasn’t the best financial move at the time.

“Tomorrow,” Keith repeated, more for his own sake than Dylan’s. He walked down the hall to his bedroom where he felt he could actually relax. Take a deep breath. Release it along with his unneeded stress. There was so much to do and such little time, especially with school starting back up again in a few weeks. Keith felt like he could scream—or, better yet, throw a punch at someone he happened to be very _irritated_ with.

The only thing that saved Dylan’s greasy, unshaved face from his wrath was the phone buzzing in his pocket. Keith pulled it out from the depths of his pocket. Read the caller ID.

_lance_

Answered.

Smiled.

Keith held the phone between his shoulder and the side of his face as he kicked off his shoes. Lined them up beside his closet with the tips of his toes. "Hey, Lance," he said, smiling wider because Lance, his super cute date (who he eagerly wanted to ask to go steady) was calling him. He soon forgot how _irritated_ he had been with Dylan just minutes before. Lance just seemed to have that effect on him—forgetting everything that had previously ailed him. Lance captured his full attention every time he heard his voice, saw his face, his name.

Keith was infatuated.

"Hey. What are you doing right now?"

"Uhhh. I'm jus… standin’ in my bedroom." _Way to make your life sound interesting, Keith._

There was a muffled sound on the other line. Probably Lance adjusting himself wherever he was. "Good. What are you wearing?"

Keith looked down at himself. "Blue jeans and a t-shirt. And socks." Not his typical attire, but Acxa insisted he tried to wear another color besides black and red for once in his life. And, though Keith had only _known_ his sister for a year’s time, he had agreed.

Lance chuckled on the other end. "Say, how would you feel if we... _did something_. Over the phone, I mean."

Keith raised a brow, looked at the wall farthest from where he stood. "...I don't know what you mean." Did he want to play a game or something?

"Oh come on, Keith. You _know_ what I mean."

"…Hate to break it to ya, but I don't."

Keith could hear the smirk in Lance's voice as he spoke, "You're kind of a dumbass sometimes, you know that? I'm talking about getting dirty."

Oh.

 _Oh_.

"Wha—? What, you wanna do that right now?" He probably sounded a bit too panicked because Lance immediately retracted his statement.

"Yeah, or… well, you don't have to, if you don't want to. But I just... I'm so fucking hot and bothered, Keith. I can't stop thinking about you. Or what's in your pants."

"My dick appreciates that," Keith replied, muttering it in a lower, sarcastic tone.

Lance giggled—fucking _giggled_ , and it shot trails of warmth up his body, through his spine. If that was even possible. "Just thought I should be honest, babe.” _Babe._ “But of course, I thought about _you_ first before I thought of your _penis_ , ‘cause I think you're really fuckin' hot."

Keith put his hand up to his face, trying to ignore what Lance was saying about him. Or his dick, for that matter. "My... my roommate is in the other room," he whispered, suddenly feeling like it was twenty degrees hotter. Was it hot in his room? Yes. Keith turned his fan on low.

"Yeah," came his voice, husky with obvious built-up tension. "But that makes it more fun."

"Lance, I—I can't, I'm not good at this kind of thing, I've never—"

"Hey," said his voice again, and Keith paused, listened. "Don't worry about it. If you don't want to, I'll go find something else to jack off to. The last thing I want to do is to force you into nonconsensual phone sex." He laughed.

Keith bit his bottom lip, teasing it between his teeth. He locked his door, saying, "I wanna do it. I just don't know how."

"Hmm, never had phone sex, Keithy~?"

Keith shook his head but soon realized Lance couldn't see him. "No. I haven't."

"Well, listen up cowboy. I'm gonna get you nice and worked up for me, okay? Do you like to top or bottom?”

"…You're talking about sex positions, right?"

"Yes." Again came the chuckle from Lance, more breathy than before.

“I don't know. I’ve never…"

Lance hummed, and there was more shuffling on the other line. Keith sat down on his bed before he passed out from the amount of blood rushing to his head. "Okay, well... We'll improvise. I happen to like both, but right now I'm kinda in a dominant mood. You okay with that, cowboy?"

Lance didn't make a snarky comment about his virginity like Keith thought he might, so that helped him relax a bit.

"Yes," he breathed, surprised that he could even speak with how flustered he felt.

"If at any point you feel uncomfortable, tell me, and I'll stop."

Keith sighed into the speaker. "I get it, Lance." He (and his semi-hard-on) was growing impatient (pun not intended) with how Lance was treating him. "I'm sure I can take whatever you throw at me."

* * *

 

Keith could, as it turned out, take whatever Lance threw at him. Staying quiet enough so that his roommate didn't hear him proved to be another challenge. Don't get him wrong, he had been able to stay silent when he did things by himself and Dylan had never heard a peep. Keith had done a lot in his adventures to find out what really _got him going_.

He, however, had never held his phone to his ear with one hand while the other was unceremoniously scissoring his ass open. By now, Lance had him lie on his bed, bare ass up and chest down to the comforter. His shirt kept sliding up his torso and exposing his sensitive nipples to the chilly air of his room. His cock had gone unattended to for the past however-many-minutes Lance had been whispering dirty, kinky shit into his ear, and it was painfully hard, dripping with pre-cum.

Part of him wondered what in god's name he had gotten himself into. The rest of him loved it.

"F-fuck," he panted, half into the pillow he's stuffed his face into and half into the open air of his room.

"Mmm," Lance hummed—groaned, more like. "Are you ready to take another finger, babe? Get all nice and open for me?"

"Fuck, yes. _Yes_." A third one for Lance was a stretch, but Keith was eager to please.

"Do it slowly. I don't want you to hurt yourself, baby." The pet name went straight to his dick, and it throbbed with need. Keith bit his lip to stifle a moan, caught in the back of his throat. "Keith, let me hear you. I love the noises you make."

"It's embarrassing," Keith replied, releasing his lower lip from the grip of his teeth. He worked his third finger in painfully slowly, and the stretch made him gasp. "Fuck, _fuck_." It came out louder than he wanted, but Keith couldn't help it. He was slowly becoming unhinged just because of Lance's voice. He could hardly imagine what it was like to have sex with this man. Keith blushed at the image of having sex with Lance. He wanted to make love with him. He wanted to give it and take it and everything in between. "Fuuuuck, I really want you to make love to me,” he admitted, biting his lip with eagerness. “and I really want to make love to you."

Lance sounded surprised, but he chuckled, breathless on the other line. "Where's this coming from all of a sudden?"

Keith worried that maybe he had totally just crossed the line, that maybe he was taking things too far with him and Lance, even though they were enjoying themselves with the phone sex at the moment. Was there a way to backpedal from that? No. No, all he could do was apologize and _beg_ for Lance to stay with him despite his embarrassing confession that he wanted Lance in a way that Lance didn’t return. What was that called? Unrequited love? Did he love Lance? He definitely felt like he did. He did. Does. Couldn’t believe he had just royally fucked up his one and only chance with Lance. Maybe Lance was a virgin too, and maybe the thought of sex was a bit unnerving to Lance as well, or maybe Lance just didn't want to have sex with him because Keith wasn’t good enough, never _had_ been good enough for any—

"I want to make love with you, too."

The words cut through his insecurities like a hot knife through butter, and he could hear his heart beating loudly in his chest. Wondered if Lance could hear it, too.

 _I love you_ , he wanted to say, but didn't know if it was inappropriate, so he refrained from it. _Later_ , he promised himself. _It can wait_.

"Lance," Keith said, unable to say much else because the man who Keith definitely _loved_ had just admitted to wanting him in the same way he wanted him.

He flipped himself over so that he laid on his back. He pulled his fingers out, despite Lance not saying anything to initiate any of his actions. "Lance,” he repeated, staring intensely at the ceiling. “I… want to kiss you. On your lips. And your neck. I want to hug you. I want us to be together."

There was probably a much more appropriate time to say all these things, but Keith knew that if he didn’t say it now when he and Lance were sharing an intimate moment via phone call, he would never say it. He was tired of backing down from speaking his truths.

Lance had helped him realize that much.

His lovely counterpart breathed heavily into the phone. "God, Keith. You're so fucking perfect, what the fuck. How did I manage to find you? Ah, hnng... c...come with me, Keith. Come with me. I want what you want, for years to come."

A few hard pumps and Keith was releasing onto his stomach. He let out a long, heavy, sigh-like moan. Lance was louder since (Keith figured) he was home alone.

For a while after that, Keith paid no mind to the sound of panting. His mind was focused on what Lance had said.

 _I want what you want, for years to come_.

Lance was the first to break the silence. “Did you… indirectly ask me to be your boyfriend?”

Keith recalled what he had said. _I want us to be together_.

“I guess so.”

His giggle, a sound Keith wanted to hear for the rest of his days, rang clear through his speaker. “Okay. I’ll be your boyfriend if you’re mine.”

Keith smiled, sat up on his bed while responding. “Pretty sure that’s the only way it will work.”

“Yeah, haha, you’re probably right.”

“I am.”

Lance hummed in his ear. “When can I see you again?” His voice was a soft whisper against Keith’s ear.

Keith took a moment to think through his schedule for the week. His smile faltered. “I’m working all week.”

“You’re off today?”

“Yes.”

“Can I come over?”

“Yes.”

Keith probably would have told Lance no if he hadn’t been so caught up in the moment, so excited that he and Lance were a _thing_. Because, even though Keith wanted nothing more than to see Lance right then and there, to hug him and to kiss him everywhere and to tell him everything, he had forgotten one important detail, and only remembered it once he had hung up and Lance had texted him that he was on his way.

Irritated: the word Keith would use to describe how he felt when he remembered his roommate was laying on the floor in his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big uwu energy. what do you think is gonna happen when lance comes over?????????????????????????? why is dylan a weirdo????????
> 
> FIND OUT NEXT ON DRAGON BALL Z
> 
> comments and kudos are appreciated!!! i love reading your guys' comments,,, like fo real. makes me so friggin happy :')

**Author's Note:**

> yeehaw
> 
> comments, kudos, and uwus are appreciated!!


End file.
